Secrets
by xbecbebex
Summary: AU. Joffrey doesn't set Sansa aside, doesn't die either. Sandor doesn't desert. Sansa becomes Queen and has a few secrets she's hiding from her husband and her kingdom. One of them is that she is in love with his beloved Hound who is now her sworn shield. And the feeling is mutual.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Yeah, I'll get to those other SanSan fics soon, I swear. This popped into my head so I had to write it. Hope you like! This is totally AU. If Joffrey had married Sansa, hadn't died and whatnot. If Sandor hadn't deserted. Etc.

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT OWN ASOIAF. Or anything in this story. BOO.

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Her days are filled with pretty smiles, soft-spoken words, and gentle touches of her husband's hand. At night, her screams and cries are muffled by the fluffy pillows that lay all over her bed. Her bruises and cuts and aches are all hidden by brightly colored dresses and pretty ornamental hair pieces. Unlike when they were younger when he had other men do his dirty work, her husband now uses his own hands, his own body to hurt her, to punish her into sobs.

Lately, she's got something to smile about. It's a secret she carries with her every moment she moves and she knows the second she tells her husband, she will be safe for a few months yet. But there is something that is keeping her from telling him. Not until she's told Sandor. So she takes extra precautions to smile sweetly, talk only when directly spoken to, and caress her husband's fragile ego.

Joffrey Baratheon gets called away to a skirmish that is happening near Casterly Rock, An uprising of some sort and while Sansa Stark.. Queen Sansa knows she should care about what's going on, be in the know of it, she finds she simply doesn't. All of Westeros could fall into the Seven Hells for all she cared. She suffered enough at the hands of her husband to have to worry about other peoples' hurts and problems as selfish as that sounded.

But now, she had a perfectly good reason to be selfish. To eat more and allow herself to grow soft and not have to perform the duties of a wife. At least not to her husband. She knew enough from her handmaidens that those ehem, duties were safe to perform even after conception, but she would make sure Joff didn't hear the same thing. She knew already he had plenty of whores to while away the many months of his wife's pregnancy. Even better, if it was a son, he'd leave her alone surely. If she gave him an heir, her duty was done.

Maybe, she thought wistfully as she picked her way slowly up the stairs, wrapping her fur cloak closer around her slender shoulders. Maybe, he'd tire of her and set her aside, publicly take a mistress and send Sansa to her own keep and ignore her to live the rest of her life in peace. He had already given The Hound as a gift for her name day several years ago, right after they were wedded, to keep her out of trouble. But he didn't know that two years ago, Sandor had finally kissed Sansa as she had wanted him to for ages. That she kissed him back.

And now, she was carrying the hound's baby. Not Joff's. The secret was enough to cause a little smirk to appear on her pale lips as she raised her hand to knock against the door. The door swung open before she could, however and a big hand reached forward to draw her near.

"Seven Hells, girl, were you trying to alert the guards of your whereabouts?" The Hound snarled at her, but on his scarred face was a twisted smile.

"I was being careful! And quiet, mind you. When Joff isn't here, they could care less if I live or die. So, my sworn shield is my only protection." She whispered breathlessly as she was pushed gently against the cold stone wall behind her. The door was closed quickly and barred.

His lips parted to emit a grunt, his typical noise even around her, and he ran his large hands through her hair, pulling it gently out of the hood that covered her head. "Little bird, you look like you have something to tell me."

"I do. Please, my love, sit down with me." He backed away from her for a moment only to swing around and pull her into his arms before carrying her to the bed. She giggled but paled as a bout of nausea took her breath away. She stilled and pressed her hands onto his shoulder to signal him to put her down. He did with a worried look in his eyes. "Little Bird?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to write Sandor's reaction in the next chapter. I'm getting ridiculously tired so I'm gonna sleep. Review and let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ahh, I'm so glad people liked my silly little start to this extremely AU story. I hope it continues to please you. Let me know what you think.

DISCLAIMER: I have literally five dollars to my name. I own nothing mentioned in this story. NOTHING!

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Tenderly, Sansa sat down on the edge of the bare bed, patting the spot next to her. Sandor plopped down without much care, staring at her in concern that made his scars even uglier. He watched the color slowly return to his Little Bird's cheeks and he reached forward to brush a piece of flaming hair that had fallen out of its sparkly netting. "Little Bird?" He rasped again.

She pressed two fingers on his brow, smoothing out the worry lines that appeared there. "Oh, Sandor, I'm quite all right. Just a little dizzy. You mustn't swing me around like a doll anymore though. It's harmful to me. To us."

Sandor stares at her even while the Hound is trying to pull her lithe little body against his. But Sandor wins the war and instead holds still, staring at her in confusion as she places her small hands on her flat stomach. "Us?" He nearly shouts in surprise? "Did you come here to tell me you're carrying that fucker's child?"

Sansa winces but only for a moment and starts to shake her head. She's pale again and he can't tell if it's because she's about to be sick or because she's suddenly fearful of his reaction. "No! Never his. I've taken care to make sure of it. I.. Sandor, it's yours." His little bird whispers and suddenly she's the little shaking child she had been when she came to court several years before. But some Stark blood in her makes her straighten up, steely resolve flashing in her eyes that impresses even the Hound.

The room falls into a silence and he simply stares at her, his mouth wide open. "How? How have you taken care to make sure it's not Joff's?" He asks, not allowing himself to believe it for a moment. Sansa Stark, Queen Sansa Baratheon would never carry Sandor Clegane's get. It had to be a lion in there, not a pup.

"A lady has her secrets, my love, but if you must know… Often times, when Joff comes to me, he's so far into his cups he doesn't know what he's doing. I.. I make sure that he never finishes in me. He will believe this child is his though, I swear it. He's complaining already that I'm not yet with child from all the times he… Has had me."

Hearing his little lady, his little bird speaking so indecently makes the Hound want to throw his head back and laugh. But Sandor is shocked into stillness, staring at her. He watches in silence as Sansa takes one of his large hands and places it on her flat stomach. He feels nothing, but the light in her eyes tells him it's true. That she is with child and it is his.

"Have you had it confirmed?" His voice is shaky and he tries to hide it, but Sansa catches the hitch in his throat. She presses a hand on top of his gently.

"Not yet. The moment I do, Joff will know. But I haven't had my moon blood in quite a while so I know it to be true." Her cheeks are flushed so prettily, but instead of looking away in embarrassment, she meets his questioning gaze with her own Tully blue eyes glinting.

"Little bird." He rasps, quickly enveloping her in a giant hug. He fears he will hurt her so he keeps his grip loose, but it is a passionate embrace nonetheless. She giggles and it's a musical note to him, one that calms his warring mind.

He watches as the young woman, because truly that is what she is, climb above him, holding her skirts out to the sides for ease. The Hound is on high alert, but Sandor pushes him back, wanting to hear what she has to say. "My love, I have never been happier in my entire life. Joff will surely stop visiting my bed, he won't even touch me once he knows I carry a child. He will think it to be his heir, but all the while, you and I both know it's yours."

It's then that it hits both the Hound and Sandor all at once and it hits him so hard, he gasps at the emotion he is feeling. He can't remember the last time he had ever felt so happy in his whole life and grasps at it with his large hands as best as he can.

His eyes close and he fights the feelings that are threatening to take over. The vast happiness and the ache of not being able to acknowledge the child. The fact that he will be able to protect this child, make sure Joff nor any knight will ever raise a finger against it. Him or her. It didn't matter. It wouldn't carry his name, so the gender didn't matter to him one whit. But he or she was of his blood, of his lineage and he would make damn sure that they were well taken care of. Only the best things for his loves.

"And once my condition is made known, it will only be appropriate that my sworn shield is by my side at all times in case some peril may fall upon us. This baby protects me here at court, but anywhere past the walls of this castle, I am in grave danger. More so than usual at least." She said these things as a matter of fact and he was impressed yet again at the steel he could see in her eyes. No, not steel. Ice.

"Sandor? Say something." She nearly whines and there's a hint of that child again, the one that he strived so hard to protect. Sandor bites back a cruel remark knowing that his little bird is now more fragile than before. But also stronger.

"Sansa." He starts, breaking off for a moment to gather his many thoughts. "I will cherish this baby as much as a sworn shield is allowed to. I will fight the Seven Hells and move the Seven Heavens just to make sure this child knows how much he or she is loved. I will protect the two of you until my dying day. But aren't you worried the babe will come out looking like a pup and not a lion?"

"No." Sansa says immediately. "I am not worried in the slightest bit. Lannister blood is weak. Stark blood is strong. Besides, Joff looked nothing like his father." He watches as the girl, no woman, leans forward, pressing a light kiss on each of his cheeks.

"Seven Hells." He whispers as he lets one of his hands caress the flatness of her stomach. Soon, she will grow heavy with his child. His Little Bird will be carrying a pup and it's almost enough to make a man become devout. Almost.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Want me to continue this? Not sure quite where to take it! I have a few ideas, but would love to hear more feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so glad people are responding so warmly to this story! I was afraid it would be so AU people wouldn't even give it a chance but so many of you are and it's making me so happy! This chapter will focus on Joff's reaction to Sansa's pregnancy so get ready.

DISCLAIMER: I still own nothing. So…. Don't sue me.

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A few days had passed and Sansa had blossomed without being under Joffrey's watchful glare. It had become apparent to many people that something was going on and Sansa could avoid the scrutiny no longer. She bid one of her handmaids to fetch the maester and sat through a horrible examination that declared what she had already known for days. That she was indeed with child and the King had to be notified at once.

She sent a crow, though she knew one of his spies would ride out at first chance to fetch Joffrey, and filled it with love notes and darling proclamations of how happy she was to finally be carrying his child. It was sappy and nearly dull to Sansa to write, but she knew that for Joffrey to leave her alone, he had to believe that she was ever the dutiful wife and soon to be mother of his children. She knew once that news reached him, Joffrey would ride his horse hard until he reached her to make sure it was not a ploy.

But for now, she was enjoying clandestine meetings with her beloved Hound and lavished in the attention the man put on her and their unborn child. He had shown a different side to Sansa before her announcement but she had never seen him act so unsure of himself, so gentle as if she could actually break apart in his hands.

She knew their meetings would have to be stopped for a little while so they enjoyed one more night before Joffrey's arrival. He had helped her wash her hair and then took a warm blanket that had been laying by the fire and dried her off inch by inch, lingering near her stomach. He pressed a kiss there and it was a memory she'd hold on for the rest of her life.

But that was last night and now, Sansa was taking her daily stroll through the gardens, admiring the colors of several flowers when there was a commotion behind her. Her handmaids sunk to their feet and Sansa lowered her head in a lovely way of showing her 'lower' station to her husband. She glanced around from under lowered lashes and felt comfort in Sandor standing a few feet behind Joffrey.

"Wife, is it true? Am I to have an heir in a few months?" He yanked her into a standing position and she felt her head swim for a few moments and felt ready to swoon. His grip on her wrists loosened as one of the maids reached forward to steady her.

"Sorry, my love, this child is already draining me. Yes, it's true." She smiled prettily at him as he let her wrists go and waved all the servants away from them for a private moment.

Sandor remained. Everyone else disappeared and Sansa's heart started to race too quickly and she felt weaker than she should. "Husband, will you lead me over to that seat over there? I need to sit down." She whispered softly, her eyes nearly closing from exhaustion. For once, Joffrey didn't scoff at her, he simply did as he was told and placed a gentle hand at her back and another at her elbow until she was safely seated and calm.

"Mother used to get sick like this with Tommen all the time, that little brat. I will ask her for remedies so you're not ill all the time. It won't do for you to be sick during dinner." He wanted to care, she could tell, but he wasn't allowing himself it seemed. She waited.

"I thought you had gotten fatter." He smirked and looked over at his Dog. Well, his former Dog. "Dog, isn't it true? Hasn't Sansa gotten chubby?" Sandor flicked his gaze towards them and back again. He simply grunted.

"I want you to stay healthy. Anything you desire, someone will bring to you. No matter the expense. I will not risk losing a child. Nor will you, do you understand me?" His grip on her elbow tightened and Sansa nodded. "If I hear of any risks you are taking, you will be punished for it, understand?"

A little yelp of assent and then Joffrey dropped her arm like she was some crone and not his lady wife. "Well, that's that then. Dog, watch her. No skipping like she used to do when she thought no one was looking. So stupid."

He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared and Sandor made his way to Sansa, concern in his eyes, but his face as solid as a rock. "Will you accompany me to my room? I suddenly don't feel so eager to be in the garden." He lifted to her feet, a gentle touch compared to Joffrey's but it rattled her nonetheless.

"Sansa." Sandor whispered hurriedly as she leaned into his chest, burying her face against the fabric that was draped there.

"I don't feel so well." She whispered in response to his concerned whisper. Sansa looked up, her blue eyes dull as she felt her legs give out.

"Your Grace!" Another voice rang out and Sandor watched as one of her handmaids rushed forward to help him. He grunted and picked up Sansa as if she weighed nothing. Which was pretty close to fact because she was slender for a woman her height.

"Get upstairs and ready a bath for your lady. Get some spiced wine to revive her. And make sure there is a fire burning. I will be right up. Fetch the maester too."

The girl ran off and Sansa sighed softly, resting her head on Sandor's shoulder. "You're always picking me up when I fall down." She whispered softly, her head lolling from side to side.

"Yes, I do. And I plan on continuing for as long as you'll have me." He responded under his breath as he started to move forward to get her safely into her room away from the prying eyes of the court and all of Joff's spies. "Little bird, this better not be anything serious." He tried to threaten, but found he couldn't. He just wanted her to be okay. To be away from Joffrey, nestled in some little inn somewhere with him. He just wanted her to be his.

"I will be okay." She whispered before her eyes shut for a few minutes and Sandor tried without success to revive her. He had to leave her in the capable hands of the maester and her handmaids, and he paced back and forth in front of the closed door for what felt like hours.

What was going to be the outcome? Had Joff already killed the one good thing Sandor had ever had a part of?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: DUN DUN DUN. Cliff hanger again for you, lovies. Don't hate. I'll update soon I promise. This one was a little rough to write and I'm not sure if it's any good so I might end up scrapping it. IDK. Let me know what you guys think. Hopefully I got Joff right?


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Your kind words are just balms to my soul. You guys literally inspire me and for that I thank you. I only hope you continue to enjoy this story! Let me know as always what you think.

DISCLAIMER: Nothing owned by me still.

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Someone had alerted the King of his ailing wife and he had disappeared for a brief moment behind the closed door before retreating to his own rooms for the remainder of the night. When he was seen, there was an unhappy look, not uncommon for him, but also a twinge of what some thought was regret.

Finally the door opened and Sandor barreled in loudly, rushing to his Little Bird's side. She was awake, laying against a multitude of pillows, a weak smile on her face as she pet his hand once and pointedly stared at the maester.

"Well, man, out with it. Is my Queen.." Sandor's voice broke off and he covered the hitch with a hearty cough.

"She is well enough to be expected, Ser. She gave us all a good scare, but she seems to be just fine. As does the child." The man was gathering his things and getting ready to rush out of the room, seemingly to get away from Sandor. "I told the Queen and the King that she is not to exert herself in any way, not until the babe grows stronger. She is in a fragile state right now and needs no excitement to rattle her. I trust you can make sure that that is followed?"

Sandor grunted and the man leaved, bowing deeply towards the Queen. He closed the door behind him and soon, Sandor and Sansa were left alone. Though he knew it was only a matter of time before her maids came scurrying in to make sure their Lady was comfortable and had want for nothing.

"My love, don't look so morose. I am well enough, you heard the maester. In a few weeks, I'll be healthier, you'll see. He or she is just being stubborn and already showing how alike they are to their father. I just need more rest he said. And to eat more. No more dainty pecking for this bird." She smiled a soft smile and reached out for his hand. She pressed a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I have the urge to spill some of that fucker's blood, Little bird. But that will upset you and possibly harm you further so I will try my hardest to not go near him. But be warned, if he comes looking for trouble, I will give him some." She smiled a little wider and nodded, as if she knew he would.

"The maids will be here any minute to ready my bath. Please, go rest for a little while and then join me for dinner. Joff is too ashamed of himself to even pay me a visit tonight so I do not expect him until the morrow. I think he actually feels bad for startling me so. I have a feeling I'll receive a very big expensive gift soon." As much as Sandor wanted to stay and fight anyone who came through her door, he knew it was improper for even her sworn shield to be so concerned about her wellbeing at such a delicate time such as this. So he left her with a kiss on her damp forehead and a promise to come back later.

But instead of going to his room to rest as she wanted him to, Sandor found himself out in the training yard, knocking down any paltry knight that raised his sword too high. He was panting and heaving for fresh air when he heard applause coming from behind him and turned to see Joffrey perched on the stone wall nearest him. How easy it would be to just shove the King and injure him. Maybe even kill him.

"Very good, dog. I'm so glad my lady wife has such a good swordsman by her side." As Sandor drew closer to the King, he noticed that there was a look of true concern on his face, though he tried to hide it. But the Hound had been his constant companion practically his whole life so he could read the boy's emotions as plainly as he could read his own. "I need you to keep your ears open for any rumors of wrong doing towards my lady. No one can lay a hand on her, let alone make her want for anything, you hear me? Sansa is carrying the future King or Queen of Westeros and she needs to be treated as such. Anything she wants is to be brought to her. Anything she needs, she should already have. Do not leave her side, Dog, I want you to protect her from everything. Mother sent these herbs along with instructions on how to brew them. Give them to her with our best wishes. Well, be gone then." Joffrey waved his hand in dismissal and Sandor walked away slowly, his head whirling.

The boy had been about to apologize it seemed for jerking Sansa around. Though he hadn't, it had been in his eyes. That fact alone was enough to make Sandor smile. Sansa need not fear anyone, not even her shit head of a husband. Sandor had special permission to keep her hidden from anyone whom would harm her. The King probably didn't realize he was to be included in that list.

A few hours later, he entered her room, watching as she was helped from her bed by a maid and led to the little table near the window. She looked like she could be blown over by an errant wind, but there was a smile on her lips as she turned to greet Sandor.

"Oh, you are just in time. Marie, leave us and fetch supper, please. The babe makes me want to eat my weight in food." The maid hid a giggle behind her hand and disappeared, leaving the lovers alone for the second time that day.

"Little bird, how are you feeling?" Sandor asked, sliding into the chair next to hers and pouring them both some spiced wine. She had color back in her cheeks again and her eyes were shining.

"Well, thank you. After a little rest and a warm bath, the babe and I feel quite well. What is that in your hand?"

"Shit head sent these for you from his mother and him. Herbs to settle your stomach and other stuff."

"How kind." His Little bird smiled happily, reaching forward to examine the bundle before setting it aside. A knock at the door signified that dinner had arrived and Sansa leaned away from him to settle against the chair as people filled in with plate after plate of food, nearly burying the table beneath it all.

"The King told the kitchen to make your favorites." Marie whispered with a smile before disappearing and closing the door behind her.

Sansa raised an eyebrow in Sandor's direction and stared at the feast they had spread in front of them. "Well, dig in."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh, I don't know if I like this or not… I have a bad eye infection and I'm literally sitting in the dim light of my bed room (my eye is too sensitive towards light right now) with a bad headache. Had to stay home from work after seeing the doctor too. But tomorrow I should be fine. Hopefully. Let me know if this chapter is up to par with the others. If not, suggestions?


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just can't stay away from this story! I can't remember the last time plot bunnies nagged at me until I wrote them! AH I LOVE IT. And I love every single one of you for favoriting this story, for following it, and most of all, the reviewers! Your input and compliments are what is driving my muse and I, I'm sure. So keep it up, lovies. Your words are much appreciated. And thanks also for all the well wishes. My eye is already less bothersome and when I wake in the morning, hopefully it will be better yet.

DISCLAIMER: Nope. Still not mine. All belongs to GRRM. He's a genius. Or a madman. There's a fine line there.

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That next morning, while Sansa was still dozing in her bed, Joffrey had entered quietly, for once not intent on hurting her at all. He knew the risks and didn't want to fail his mother in any further way. Losing an heir would be the ultimate failure.

He studied his wife for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her beautiful (but untouchable) breasts and found himself wanting her despite the danger. But no, he had a whore waiting for him in his room and he could be as rough with her as he liked. In his arms was a wiggling little puppy, a soft white one that yipped happily when released from Joff's hands. He placed it on the bed and warned it quietly not to wake the Queen and not to soil her sheets either. The puppy simply stared. Joff stared at his wife again, sighing softly as he pulled a bag out of his pocket, one that contained a heavier present that she would be able to wear all the time. A reminder of his love.

Sansa woke when the door closed gently and she sighed happily, stretching her arms out and then squealing when a wet tongue lapped at her bare skin. She sat up quickly, staring in surprise at the little puppy that was scampering towards her over all the covers she had just kicked off. There was a letter written in her husband's hand.

My sweet, I do apologize for causing you to fall ill the other day, it wasn't my intention at all.

I had merely missed you and was stunned by your lovely appearance. This puppy is yours now.

As a token of my love and gratitude for bearing my child. I think it will be good practice for our

Little one on its way. There's another present waiting for you on your table so make sure to wear

That to dinner tonight. As always, you have my love, Joffrey Baratheon.

The note nearly made Sansa snort, but instead, she tossed it aside and reached forward to grasp the wiggly little body to her face to study him. "What shall we call you, ser?" She mused aloud as one of her maids entered to help her get ready for the day. Sansa stood up slowly from the bed, still feeling a little weak and made her way to the table where there was a black velvet bag waiting for her. She slid it open and gasped at what she saw. Another note accompanied it. "Hound said you liked birds." The note was short and simple and Sansa's eyes glazed over with tears as she studied the amulet. It was a little bird perched on a branch with little music notes near her beak. It was in a word, the best gift Joff had ever given her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A moon's turn had passed and the puppy was already getting a bit bigger and harder for Sansa to handle on her own. So it had turned into her sworn shield's duty to walk beside Sansa while also holding the leash of her puppy, Florian. Only he knew the joke behind her naming the dog that, and he found himself smirking at the memory of her telling him.

Sansa had grown too, she was starting to show. There was a little bump where there had once been a flat plateau and her breasts were already straining out of all of her old dresses, so Joff had to have the seamstress to the castle to have her fitted for some new ones. Sandor had wanted to slap the lecherous gaze that the King had directed towards Sansa, but she seemed oblivious or simply decided to ignore it. Her new necklace lay perfectly right above her heart, so she often blamed Joff's gaze on that. Still an innocent stupid little bird.

Things seemed to be going well. Too well, Sandor mused as he walked at a super slow pace beside his beloved, glaring down at the yippy dog at his heels. As if his gloomy thought summoned something horrible, as if the Gods themselves decided to show that sometimes they did listen to their people, there was a gasp and then a thud and Sandor watched helplessly as Sansa tripped over a jagged piece of rock that had broken apart from the walkway. He dropped the leash as he watched Sansa put her hands out to stop her from falling hard, but it happened anyway. The dog even stayed still instead of scampering away.

Sandor stepped forward, feeling as if he was walking through water or pushing past some bodies, as he reached Sansa. He heard a pathetic sounding little sob and then a louder one. He kneeled down to take her into his arms, looking in silent horror at her grasping her tiny stomach with both hands and listened as she started to plead with the Gods to not take her baby away. That she was doing so well, following all of the maester's orders. She hadn't lain with anyone, including Sandor by his choosing, and he knew how hard she adhered to the no stress regime that the maester had placed on her.

Time seemed to slow as Sandor bellowed for someone to fetch the maester and the King at once. He felt himself move forward, unable to say anything to his ailing little bird, unable to do anything to keep from screaming about the injustice of it all. They were finally happy and suddenly, it was taken away from them.

The King ran behind Sandor up the stairs, shouting questions that were unanswered. Sandor placed her gently on the bed as she threw her head back with a body shaking sob. The maester ushered the men out of the room and slammed the door close and all the two of them could hear was muffled sobs and pleas to the Gods.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I swear I'm not being a sadist, I'm just trying to follow GRRM's happy and then not pattern. But this story will have a happy ending, I promise. I guess I'm just feeling angsty tonight. DON'T HATE ME, OKAY GUYS? Sansa's one of my favorite characters and I'm not intent on torturing her much longer. I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, so my eye infection is gone, thanks for all of your well wishes, my loves! But now I'm catching some sickness and I feel so weak and icky and I have to work the weekend so wish me luck. I will need it. I hope you guys continue to like this story! Also, sorry for leaving you all hanging with that last cliffhanger. My bad.

DISCLAIMER: I STILL OWN NOTHING!

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Having never been a devout man in his whole life, Sandor Clegane found it hard to pray for more than a minute at most and usually it was a stream of curses and not much else. He cursed the Mother and the Warrior and the Stranger and the Crone and whatever the fuck else was out that had harmed his little bird and caused her to cry so often.

It had been several weeks now that Sansa had lost the child and she seemed to do nothing but weep. No one, not even the King nor the Queen tried to bring her out of her grief. Sandor refused to give into his own mournful thoughts, insisting in his own head that it hadn't been a pup after all but a lion and good riddance. But he knew in his heart that that wasn't true and that his beloved was hurting beyond words. That she was well and truly broken again.

She grew thinner and thinner in front of his eyes and all he could was helplessly watch as she waved her hand at the offered food and give into the weariness that she wore like a shroud around herself. She slept so much now. He hoped at least her dreams were kind.

One day, Sandor had had enough and had to keep himself from shaking the girl so hard that her jaw would mash together. He left her bedside with a loud huff and found himself marching to the King's bedchambers. He didn't even knock and was not surprised to find himself interrupting some sort of 'session' between the King and a whore. "Your Grace." He grunted and watched in slight amusement as the whore attempted some sort of modesty as Joff abandoned her and walked towards the Hound while sliding a robe over his bare slim body.

"What is it, dog?" He asked, his voice dripping with his usual bravado, but Sandor could see the shadows under the young man's eyes, could see the strain Sansa's 'illness' had caused him. He wasn't entirely without feeling after all.

"Your lady wife has been refusing food for the past few days and in her condition it is not safe. You must make her eat. Your Grace, she cannot fuck away her feelings like you can, and simply put, she is dying. You need to make her eat." He repeated, not liking the helpless tone his voice was nearly taking on.

He watched in silence as the young man's face creased with worry and then his usual cockiness again. He clapped his hands together and nodded. "I know. Sansa could never refuse a lemon cake. Tell the cooks that they must make dozens of them and then you can give them to her. If she refuses those, I will pay her a visit." There was a threat hidden under those words, but Sandor ignored it. Right now, Sansa needed tough love and he would rather it come from him than the King.

He grunted assent and then left, leaving Joff to his whore and whatever else made him happy.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The days blurred together and Sansa found she couldn't keep track of night or day, the only indication of the days passing where what the Hound was wearing. She had dreams of Winterfell as it had been, of Arya teasing her, of Jon hiding in the crypts dressed as a ghost, of Robb teaching Bran how to shoot an arrow, of Rickon clinging to her mother's skirts, of Father polishing Ice. Instead of making her heart ache when she awoke, she simply felt empty.

She had felt that way since her fall and the pain that followed it compared to nothing else she had ever felt in her life. Watching the life slip from between her legs, she had given into the screams that ripped at her throat and she didn't care an ounce for ladylike demeanor. She didn't even notice when Cersei came by her side and held her clammy hand in hers. She wouldn't have cared.

But now the very thing that had given her so much happiness and hope, that had given her a purpose to live was dead and gone and buried somewhere in an unmarked grave and she could do nothing but grieve. She knew Sandor was by her side often, but she never turned her head from where it was inclined, nor did she give any indication that she knew he was there.

Then one day, Sandor disappeared and then the room was filled with the smell of a childhood favorite. Something she hadn't eaten in years. Her stomach growled and she cursed it, calling it a traitor. She opened her blue eyes and nearly gasped at what surrounded her. For starters, Florian was laying on the floor staring up at her with sad eyes. But piled on top of the table were plate filled with plate of fresh lemon cakes. The smell itself made her eyes water and she got to her feet slowly, unable to resist.

"So, girl, you still have some will to live?" A rasp came from the corner behind her bed, by the window and she turned with a treat touching her lips. She took a bite and suddenly found herself ravenous, watching him as he got up from his seat and loomed over her. "I thought I lost you both." He said softly and Sansa find her heart skipping a beat as he presses a gentle big hand on her cheek. She leans against it, shaking her head.

"I was just lost for a little while, that is all." She whispered back and she looked up into his eyes, seeing her own pain and sorrow reflected in them.

"The King will be pleased to know that his idea worked." He grins but it looks more of a grimace and twists his face in a grotesque way. She finds it charming.

"Tell him that his lady wife will be joining him for dinner tonight. That she hopes she has not caused him too much worry." He nods and starts to move away.

"Aye, but tonight, after you say your pretty little words to your husband, after you have done what you need to, you will be mine again, Little Bird. I have been without you for far too long and look what good it did." She winces but he doesn't seem to notice.

He was right though and she knew it. She could no longer protect herself from the evils of the world, never had been able to and always seemed to learn that lesson the hard way. But the hardest one to learn was that even her loved ones couldn't always save her from them either.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know some of you are going to hate me and I may very well get my first hateful reviewer, but I'm sticking by this story and the way I'm telling it. I hope you will all tell me what you thought and keep up the reviewing! You guys inspire me!


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm dedicating this chapter to Midnightdawn67 and Jenna. You both inspire me so much with your kind words of praise and loveeee! I hope this story continues to please you! Everyone else, I LOVE YOU GUYS TOO. Just need you to show a little more of YOUR love. Thank you! Oh and for some reason, I don't feel like writing smut for this story. I want it to stay sweet and innocent. If you want smut, let me know and I will try to write one out for you, but this story will only allude to it.

DISCLAIMER: Still owning nothing at alllll.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Over the next few moons, Sansa slowly got her appetite for food back as well as her will to live. Her body retained its womanly curves once again, and she started smiling not only in Sandor's presence but in public too. She kept mostly to the gardens and her rooms, but sometimes duty would call upon her to appear in the throne room to listen to the peoples' complaints and worries.

And for a while, Joff acted like a changed man. But that lasted only a few days at most and then he was back to his original stubborn cruel self. He never raised a fist towards her though, nor did he let anyone even speak a single bad word in her direction. He was not gentle when he took her at night, but she never expected him to be.

She did her duties as was expected of a wife and more importantly the Queen of Westeros, all the while seeking comfort in the arms of the man who used to scare her more than Joff ever had. But she had been a child then, and she had learned her lesson. Looks could be deceiving.

-x-x-x-x-x-

This time, Sandor was prepared and looking for the signs anxiously every other week. Had her appetite increased? Had she gotten more sluggish? Was she pale or looking ill some times? Had her breasts started to swell? And each week, he had to remind himself that it wasn't proper for a man to be this excited about a bastard baby in the Queen's belly. Even if it was HIS bastard baby.

Fuck propriety, Sandor mused as he made his way to Sansa's bedchambers to await her arrival from the King's. No longer were there any guards but he standing outside her door, so they didn't have to worry about being caught. During the day, Sansa was mostly left to her own devices unless the Queen had want of her. But those visits no longer made his Little Bird unhappy. Not after it had been revealed to her that Cersei had visited her sickbed more than once and had upbraided her son for not doing so.

Sansa had told him it was because Cersei knew what it was like to lose a child, knew what it was like to bury a loved one if the rumors of her troubled pregnancies of past years had been truth. He didn't like the idea of Cersei actually having a heart, but he was glad that someone else finally saw the worth Sansa had in this world. Even if it was just bearing children for now. And how perfectly stupid of the Little Bird to sympathize with that bitch. But that was one of the reasons he loved her. Because of her open heart.

After just a few minutes of laying in wait, unworried about anyone else walking through the door, he heard it open and close and he sat up slowly to watch as his Little Bird scurried forward, placing Florian on the floor. He smirked. "Fucker get in the way again?"

Even in the pale moonlight, Sansa blushed and looked about to scold him for his crude tongue, but instead her face blossomed into a wide smile. She climbed onto the bed and sighed happily as she laid down next to him, pulling him closer to her. He placed a hand on her slender neck and gently caressed her shoulders, watching her visibly relax.

"I just told Joff that our nightly visits must come to an end. That the maester needed to attend me in the morn."

He sat up straight, his eyes wide as he searched her face for any kind of jest. "Truly?" He asked, his voice rasping out into the silent room. He could hear his own heart racing.

"Truly, my love. He was delighted, to say the very least, and actually kissed me. It was a strange feeling. And then he sent me away so I could rest." A smirk appeared on her lips as she leaned forward to pull him back down in a similar stance as her.

"If only he knew you weren't going to be resting, Little Bird." He retorted with a snort, placing his big hands on her slender waist and pulling her on top of him. With a giggle, she pressed her lips against his cheeks.

Afterwards, once fully sated, he lay with her draped over his bare body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart regained its normal pace. This felt too good. Too comfortable and the Hound fought to gain some sort of upper hand on it. "That was just to make sure there really is a babe in you."

His only response was a half-hearted shove and a sleepy giggle.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Fluff for ya. I felt bad about the sadness of this story thus far sooooo. Here is the remedy. Let me know what you think and I'll update again really soon. Gonna be a busy weekend.


	8. SPECIAL NOTE- ie I'm SO SORRY

NOTE FOR ALL MY FAITHFUL READERS:

I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently. Work has been picking up and life has gotten a little bumpy lately. I'm in transition pretty much and I'm not handling it well. I'm going to try to get back into writing these stories, particularly Secrets, but I can't promise anything. It's hard enough to go to work, let alone try to write something. I'm so sorry to you all and I hope to get back into your good graces soon enough. Love to you all. -Becky


	9. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, it's me, guys. Hope you haven't all abandoned me completely. I haven't completely rid myself of this story. I'm sorry for the long delay. Life has just been really tough lately and I'm struggling with a lot. But I need to keep writing because making you guys happy makes me happy. Comments are always an uplifting thing to read (for the most part). Thanks for hanging in there and hopefully this long awaited update doesn't disappoint.

DISCLAIMER: STILL OWNING NOTHING.

-x-x-x-x-x-

She only ever fell apart in front of Sandor. No one else was privy to her tears except for maybe her handmaidens. When news broke across the Keep that Sansa's brother was dead along with her mother, slaughtered while protected under guest's protection, Sandor feared for Sansa and her baby. Their baby.

In a rare act of kindness, the King decided to tell his wife in private. Well, he had his uncle tell his wife in private. Apparently, the Queen (for she would always be Queen wouldn't she?) thought he would gloat too much and upset the fragile mother-to-be. Sandor stood behind the Imp to watch his Little Bird's reaction. What he saw unfold in front of him shocked him.

Sansa was dressed in a proper gown since she was having company. It was a light gray color but he knew the Imp was not an evil man and would not punish her for wearing her House's colors. Nor would he report such triviality to the King. Her little hands were resting on her growing stomach. She was further along in her pregnancy than she had gotten before and she glowed for every day of it. Even today. Even when she was about to receive heartbreaking news.

"Forgive me for receiving you like this, my Lord. I have felt so very tired lately." Sandor knew it was mostly because he had been keeping her up with his antics and that made his lips twitch. Tyrion however shook his head fiercely.

"No need to apologize, your Grace. I think you look quite beautiful this morning. Motherhood suits you." Sansa smiled prettily as Tyrion leaned forward in his chair. "However, I have troubling news." Sandor wasn't sure if he liked the fact that he saw true sympathy and perhaps sorrow echoed in the dwarf's mismatched eyes and not simply pity. "Sansa… Your brother Robb and your mother were killed at your uncle's wedding to a Frey. It seems Lord Frey was still furious about Robb marrying against his agreement and… Well, your Grace, it fell to me to tell you. I am so sorry to have to bear such news. Especially in your state." The Imp trailed off.

Sandor watched as the color slowly drained from Sansa's face but she stayed still, not swooning in the slightest bit. He wanted to growl but restrained himself as Tyrion waddled over to Sansa and bowed his head, taking her small hand in his. "My Lady Sansa, I am so truly sorry for your loss. Please, stay well. I will make sure dinner is brought up to you tonight. I'm sure you do not want to dine in the sight of others." She nodded stiffly and Tyrion took his leave. Before he left though, he shot a look full of meaning at Sandor who fought hard to not push the little man out the door.

He's pretty sure the look meant to take care of her. That he knew he already had been doing so. But also to be careful of many things. On his way out, Tyrion picked up Sansa's little dog and placed him outside of her solar before motioning to the guards to shut the door behind him. It was silent and Sandor could hardly even hear her breathing.

"Little Bird?" His voice came out shaky as he stalked forward, falling to his knees in front of her, grasping her hands in his. They felt cold. She rose her eyes from the spot she was staring at on the table to his and he could see the unshed tears in her eyes. "Go ahead, girl, cry." He said as gently as he could, but all he wanted to do was grab her face and kiss away each stray tear that made its way down her pale cheeks. He wanted to pull her roughly to him and take away every inch of pain she was experiencing. Take it away from her and give it to someone else who deserved it. Him even. She has already lost so much, how much more can she lose before she gives up?

She says nothing but tears end up sliding down her cheeks as her breathing becomes unsteady. "Sansa… Tell me something to do. What can I do?" He nearly begs her, wanting to hear her voice, wanting assurance that she wasn't shutting some part of her down to cope with this new tragedy amidst the somewhat fragile happiness she had established in her life. He watches as she opens her mouth to wet her lips and then shakes her head a few times.

"Take me home, Sandor. Take me home." She whispers so softly he can barely hear her.

His grip on her hands tighten. "Little bird, if I could I would get you out of here. But we would hardly make it out of the Keep let alone get to Winterfell before someone found us. And in your condition, you are not fit to travel."

"Then we will wait until after the babe is born. We will go then. I need to see Winterfell. I know it was sacked by that awful Theon, but I need to see it. Maybe Arya will be there." Her voice breaks and Sandor pulls her into his lap, nestling them beside the table. In the middle of the day it is a dangerous position to be found in, but he hardly cares.

"One day, Sansa, one day I will take you home."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope that was okay… I needed to get an update out to you all. It sucks though! UGH.


	10. Chapter 9

AUTHOR's NOTE: I wonder if any of you are still out there, waiting for this update. For those of you who are, thank you so much for your patience. This winter has been really hard for me and I'm still struggling to stay afloat and positive. I have abandoned my writing, but now I'm trying to hold onto that as well. I got a new job and it's okay for now. Pressure is riding on me to figure out my life. And I'm not sure why I'm ranting here since none of you actually know me, but many of you seem to care and that's enough for me. Thank you for supporting me. For supporting this story. I still have NO idea where it's going, but I'm letting the characters dictate their own fate. Enjoy! (Please review. I'd love to hear from you!)

DISCLAIMER: I don't even own a car. GRRM owns everything in this story.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Many had not expected to see the Queen out in court in the days following the horrible announcement. The King hadn't even visited his wife though he had sent her numerous little trifles as if to make up for his lack of presence. But Sansa considered his absence the greatest gift he could ever give her. Aside from setting her aside to live out the rest of her pathetic existence in relative normalcy. As if that would ever happen.

But she surprised them all when she came out of her chambers after only two days of grieving. She was not even dressed in mourning nor her house colors, but in a dress a violent shade of crimson to honor her husband's family. She walked with her hands clutching her stomach protectively as she made her way to the throne room, eager to put a gossiping court at rest. They would see no tears, nor shadows of grief upon her pale face. They would only see the pride and joy she had of being the Queen, of baring the King's heir. Even though she knew it wasn't his, only one other person knew the truth. She wished she could shout from the rooftops that a King had been cuckolded again, fooled into believing his lady wife bore his own seed. But she had vowed to the Gods she would never allow his seed to quicken in her belly. And she would keep that promise until the day she died.

She had spent the last few days in Sandor's presence, silent but not alone. He hadn't pushed her to talk, hadn't pushed her to do anything but cry if she wanted to. And she had cried, horrible body shaking sobs while he held her tightly to him. She knew her grief wounded him in a way a sword never could so it was for his sake and her unborn child's that she mustered up the strength to appear in court during the King's duties.

As always, he followed close behind his Queen, his lady love, his little bird and she could feel his steady gaze upon the back of her head. Her hair was done up like Cersei so loved, another tribute to her new family, but only Sandor had heard the mocking tone she had muttered while her most loyal servant, the only one he was aware wasn't spying on her for the Lannisters', did up her hair.

"Your Grace!" A surprised voice rang down the long hallway. The servants stopped where they were and bowed their heads. As Sansa walked nearer, she saw the owner of the voice was her husband's uncle. The one who had broken the news as gently as possible. "We.. No one expected you to be… My lady, you are glowing!"

Sansa smiled wanly at him. This man had turned out to be a man who seemed as full of hatred for his own blood as she was. He would be useful if she ever decided to act on her hatred. "My lord, the babe and I were growing restless of being cooped up. I think he longed to see his father." The half-man quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, only nodded.

"May I have the honor of escorting you to the King then?" She nodded and glanced back to make sure Sandor was not too far behind. His face was a passive mask, one he wore around everyone but her.

Moments later, they strolled into the throne room where Joffrey was lolling on the chair. Sandor and Sansa wished he'd impale himself on one of the pointy swords. "Nephew! Look who I found wandering the halls!" Tyrion called out, bringing all attention to the threesome who just entered the large room. His voice echoed in the silent room as the crowd fell quiet.

Sansa swept forward, a little smile on her lips as she sunk to her knees at the foot of the stairs, lowering her eyes to the floor. "My King, please forgive my absence the past few days. I have… Come to terms with the betrayal that has occurred. My family has yet again proven to be traitors and I thank you wholeheartedly for not blaming me for their indiscretions. Only the Gods can judge them now." Her voice rose and fell with the words she had practiced numerous times to Sandor in the privacy of her bedchamber. He had scarcely touched her.

Joffrey leaned forward, a glint in his eyes, unsure whether to accept this 'apology' or bring more sorrow to her. He glanced over to his mother and saw her shake her head at him. Very well, the court would see a doting, loving husband. He stood up and walked quickly down the stairs, reaching out his hands to grasp Sansa's small ones. "My Queen, you look more beautiful each day that passes. I am not sure whether it is because I have not seen you in many hours or if I am just like a starving man before a feast, but, my love, look at you! And our child! Our heir! My son! Strong and hearty like his father." He smirked and placed a tender kiss on each hand. "Please, join me and we will celebrate your return to court." He lead her up the stairs basking under the appreciative hum of the court.

He would find some whore later to punish for his fake love for his miserable wife. Yes, she was beautiful, she nearly always was and he feared she always would be. She had all the virtue and kindness a Queen should have and had the love of his court despite her being blood of a traitor. He would do only harm to hurt her and this babe. He needed her on his side until she birthed his heir. Until then, he would play the doting husband. And she would play the meek wife. He'd make sure of it.

Sansa sunk to sit down next to the Queen, accepting the frigid kiss on the cheek her mother-in-law offered her with a graceful smile. Then, she folded her hands over her growing belly and stared out at the crowd, scanning each face until she met the eyes of the only true person here. She had to fight the smile that wanted to show on her lips.

In all things including grief and terror, he would be by her side. He had sworn to her that he would take her home. And one day, he would. And maybe, one day, she'd even be happy again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope you liked it. It's a little rough, but it'll do. Tell me what you think.


	11. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh, my loves! For that's what you truly are to me for sticking with this story (and with me) even in my absence. I'm so glad the latest chapter has pleased you and I hope this one does too. Please, let me know what you think.

DISCLAIMER: I don't even own the brand new mattress I'm currently laying on… What's that tell you?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As the days passed, Sansa seemed to get stronger and lovelier, as if that was even possible, Sandor mused with a weird twitch of his lips. Motherhood did, in fact, suit her tremendously if the rosy cheeks and happy gaze she had on her lips at all time was any indicator. Her husband had all but abandoned her, never coming to her at night, never coming within her chambers alone. Sandor was always there and he was plotting.

He was planning their escape. He promised the little bird it would happen sometime after their babe was born. And he planned on bringing the child with them, if it was possible. No, he would make it possible. It was a piece of him and more importantly, a part of her. He only hoped the child would be born with her gentle nature.

But then one miraculous day, it seemed that his nonstop planning needn't continue. An accident had happened when Joffrey had been hunting (how ironic that he is to suffer the same fate his 'father' had) and while there were no clear witnesses, it was obvious from his weakened and bloody state that he'd be lucky to live through the night.

Sansa, slipping on a mask of pure terror and sorrow, ran down the halls as quickly as she could, holding her skirts improperly away from her ankles. Sandor followed quickly behind, trying not to rejoice in this unforeseen fortune that had fallen into their laps. The Gods must be trying to make up for all the abuse his little bird had experienced and this was a good start.

They were admitted to the King's solar and then into his bedchambers where Sansa had to hold a hand over her nose and mouth to keep from throwing up. Her days of sickness due to the babe were not quite over and the smell of sweet rot and other unpleasant things made her head swim. The Lannisters were gathered around Joff's bed and all but Cersei looked at her upon her entrance.

"Ah, my sweet lady wife come to bid me farewell." The voice made her skin crawl but she plunged forward fearlessly knowing that his fists would never come to hurt her again.

"My love, my King, what has happened?" Her voice was high and shrill as Tyrion waddled away to give her a seat near her husband. He looked significantly at the Hound as he too entered the room, preferring to hang back by the doors.

She slid delicately into the chair that was offered, closer to her husband than she would have preferred but even now she had a role to play. "Oh, shut up, Sansa. We all know you were probably giggling with delight to hear about me on my deathbed." The king looked paler than usual, but with the amount of blood surrounding him on the bed and the multiple bandages around his head and midsection, she could hardly believe he was still alive. The King broke off, coughing and wincing as his mother reached forward to smooth some of his light blonde hair out of his evil eyes. "Mother.. And I have devised a plan. To destroy you even as I die. I hope to see you cry one last time."

Sansa didn't even feign shock or anything like it. She simply looked weary, as if she too were ready for her destruction. She stole a glance towards Sandor, very quickly that hopefully no one noticed. But one had. The Imp. "What is it you wish to do to me now, Joff?"

"He is still your King and you must speak to him as such!" Cersei cried out, her voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. Sansa bowed her head but only minutely. "Since my son is so weakened, I will tell you myself. We plan on having you dishonored and set aside. We cannot blame you for his death, since you are with child and the stupid people seem to love you but we will blame you for the angst that lead the King to hunt and to his death. Oh, do you not know that your little secrets would one day come out, little dove? We know you have been writing to any northern man you could possibly reach to beg for help to escape! You are still here though, aren't you? Your northern men were true to you though, fighting for you until their death. Men will die for you, Sansa, silly fool that you are, but no one here wants to see you on the throne. Or perhaps, we will say you were so distraught over the imminent death of your beloved King, you threw yourself and your babe into the sea. You are to be banished from King's Landing. Where you go, we hardly care. You are a traitor and should be put to death for all of your family's crimes, but you are loved by your people, so we will simply shame you instead. Sweet little dove.. Leave now before I change my mind and have your pretty little head rotting on a pike somewhere…."

Sansa didn't hesitate in the least, bowing quickly before scampering from the room. She couldn't believe her luck, their luck. Her planted letters (some were real, some were not) had done as they were supposed to. No one knew the biggest secret she carried inside of her. She fought to keep composure as she fled. Sandor slipped quietly from the room as well when all attention (but one) was turned back to the dying King. Only one set of eyes followed the fleeing pair and only one set of legs started to follow them.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A delirious laugh started to erupt from Sansa's lips and she had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop them, trying hard to make it sound like a sob instead of joy. She heard heavy footsteps behind her, but felt no fear because she knew it was her love, her savior, her hero. Her knight. Sansa felt like she was flying through the halls as she tried to reconcile her sudden luck with the misery she had lived with for years.

She threw open her door, startling Shae who was making her room look nice. Sandor followed her in. "Out." He barked and she nodded, pointing to the bed that had a bundle on it. There was a smirk on her lips as she exited, closing the door behind her. Neither thought to bar it behind her. Sansa walked over slowly to the bed, fingering the delicate fabric of the bag that lay in front of her. It wasn't a huge bag, could hardly carry any thing of import, but she could tell it was filled with something. She looked up to Sandor, question in her eyes but he merely shrugged. Her fingers worked the knot as nimbly as sewing and she gasped upon opening it.

"Sandor… There's money and jewels in here! Between this and all of the lions you have won during the tourneys… Sandor, we will hardly want for anything! But who gave this to us? And why?"

There was a sharp knock at the door and Sansa paled, looking wildly at the door and Sandor. They had no choice but to let whomever it was in. Had Cersei already changed her mind? But as the door swung open, Tyrion Lannister walked in. "My Lady Stark." He said softly, bowing to her before closing the door behind him and then motioning to the Hound to bar it.

"I see you have received my present. You must hurry. I had Shae gather as much of your items as she could while you were away, and Sandor, we have already had your monster saddled up. There are people out there, willing to help the Lady of Winterfell and her sworn shield and I have made sure of their loyalty myself."

Sansa stilled, staring at the small man with shock and question in her eyes, her lips parted as she inhaled noisily. Sandor walked away from the door to place a steadying hand on her shoulder and she couldn't help but place her small one over his. Tyrion took it in and surprised them both by smiling.

"But… Why?" Sansa blurted out.

"Because it seems like my sister has forgotten my family's unofficial saying. She lives her life by 'Hear me Roar' but ignores the fact that we always pay our debts. Your lady mother let me live, however unwillingly, and to that, I owe your family a debt I hope to pay with your freedom and safety and happiness. Now, please, go. You need to leave now." His words seemed to jolt Sansa into action and she scurried forward to fall gracefully to her knees in front of the smaller man.

"I can never truly thank you enough for this, my Lord. I… If there is ever a time when I can help you in any way, please call upon me." He nodded and she leaned forward to brush a gentle kiss on his cheek, before standing up and turning to Sandor. He grabbed the bag off the bed and tied it to his armor. He nodded to the Imp, saying nothing, but it seemed Tyrion read enough in his eyes. He nodded back and stepped aside to let them by.

He feared and hoped it was the last time he'd see either of them.

When Sandor and Sansa were situated on the saddle of Stranger in the unusually empty stable, when they started forward and rode hard out of the Keep, neither of them looked back. Neither of them cared to.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: a little longer so hopefully you guys liked the length?! Was this believable enough?! I hope you guys liked it! Let me know!


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